Roos. Yes! Now!
Coq. No!
Roos. Bah!
Coq. She may be angry. Get beneath the table.
Please. To oblige me. (loud rap.)
Roos. Well, if I am able.
(Gets under table.) I must confess I feel how ill you treat me.
Coq. To-morrow, by the haunted tree you’ll meet me.
(Goes to door and open it. Enter G. King. She curtseys. He chucks her under chin.)
Gnome King. Well, lass, your pretty face I’ve long been missing.